Page 25 of Pucking Matt
I slip through the back door and run to the front. I take one look at his truck and smile.
Fucking perfect.
I take a picture of his truck from the side, I sneak a picture of the front, the back, and the other side. I even dare to open the truck door. Ooh, it’s unlocked.
Hells yeah!
I quickly get in and look around. I’m so relieved it’s clean, and to my surprise, it smells nice. Wait, I inhale. He sprays himself with cologne before walking into the Grind Stone? I laugh as I take photos. When I’m done, I glance around. Clean. I open the compartments. Gum, cologne, a pen, a few quarters. The glove compartment is also clean. Boring.
I glance around before exiting. The coast is clear.
I walk in through the back and listen for Matt’s voice. I don’t hear him, so I cut the corner. Jen laughs, pushing his shoulder gently across the counter. Matt catches my eyes with a smile on his face.
Jen turns around and drops her act, probably because of the look on my face.
Is she flirting with him or is he flirting with her?
Either way, he’s pleased with himself.
Jen starts making his order as I walk to him and whisper, “What do you think you’re doing?”
“I hear you’re coming to our game this weekend?”
I raise a brow at him.
He smirks. “Stalker much?”
Chapter 8
A few days later.
I'm lounging in The Grind Stone, savoring my sandwich like there are no raisins in it. I know for a fact because Jen made it.
Harvey says, “Dude, that guy is checking out your truck.”
I glance over, more amused than concerned. “Yeah, they do that.” I turn back to him. “Let’s back to the plays?”
We dive back into our phones, discussing strategies for the next game.
Amber's been suspiciously quiet lately, no biting comebacks or death glares. Maybe she's finally realized she's out of her league. I mean, I knew I'd win eventually. It was only a matter of time before she would decide to take the high road.
“Another guy is checking out your truck,” Harvey says, pulling me from my victory lap daydream.
I look up, frowning slightly. One guy admiring my wheels? Normal. Two? That's pushing coincidence territory.
When one of them looks through the window, that’s it.
“I'll be right back,” I mutter, pushing away from the table.
As I step into the parking lot, I spot the two guys circling my truck like vultures eyeing their next meal.
“Hi, can I help you?” I call out, trying to keep my tone friendly despite the weird vibe I'm getting.
The first guy turns to me, eyes lighting up. “Yeah, I'm here to buy the truck.”
“What?” I blink, sure I've misheard.
The second guy pipes up, “Yeah, I'm here to buy the truck too. Maybe take it for a quick spin.”
